Killing Season: A Thriller

“Of course.”

They walked over the gravel, Ro constantly stopping to empty her shoes of rocks. The pathway ended in a right angle to a busy paved road. Ben folded his arms across his chest. He stared at the traffic. “Is this the main road to Mount Diablo?”

“It leads to a main highway, yes.”

“What other roads near here lead to Mount Diablo?”

“You mean the main highway. There is another major thoroughfare on the other side of the jogging trail. The detectives discounted it once they found the sneaker. Besides, the other side of the jogging trail would involve going up instead of going down.”

Ben paused. “But the cops did search on the other side of the jogging trail.”

“We searched over the entire area trying to find Julia. We thought she might have fallen and seriously hurt herself. That’s why we looked down the hill first. And that’s where we found the sneaker.” A pause. Nora said, “What are you thinking about?”

“I really don’t know, Nora. I’m just thinking about him . . . what he was thinking. Doing what he does . . . the guy isn’t random. He’s very organized. He’s been eluding us for at least three years.” Vicks gave Ro a quick glance, then he spoke to the ground. “I’m just thinking if you want to be clever and throw someone off track, you might decide to go up instead of down.”

“Her shoe was found down the hill.”

“Anyone can take off a shoe and throw it down the hill.” He looked up. “You know, I can see the jogging path from here. I mean, not well, but I can see the shadows going by even this far down. This particular spot has hiding places—no doubt about that—but it’s not as secluded as I’d like for an abduction. One good yelp and you’d get someone’s attention.”

No one spoke.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to see the jogging trail again.”

“Let’s go.”

The climb back up through the woods was arduous and uncomfortably devoid of human speech. They walked along the pathway for roughly another quarter of a mile. Then Vicks abruptly stopped. His eyes were directed upward. “What’s that shack about halfway up the hill?”

“What are you looking at?” Nora asked.

“Stand where I am.” Ben pointed upward. “See that thing peeping out between the pine and the redwood . . . looks like an outhouse or a gardener’s shed.”

She squinted. “I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed it before.”

“Judging from the flies, it’s probably an outhouse,” Ro said. A fetid breeze passed downward. She made a face. They all did.

Ben said, “Surely someone looked inside when they were searching for Julia.”

Nora was upset. “How could I have never noticed it before? I searched the entire area. How did you spot it?”

“Hiding in plain sight,” Ben said. “This part of the mountain is pretty dense and that’s probably why they built the outhouse up there . . . privacy. Also, who would want to get close to something smelly? Do you mind if I take a look?”

Nora said, “I’ll come with you.”

Vicks said, “Wanna wait here, Ro?”

The choice was between something gross and being alone in a spot where someone had been abducted. It really wasn’t any choice. Ro said, “I’ll come with you.” The pathway to the outhouse was a rut in the ground. The structure was hard to see even as they approached it, playing peekaboo with the trees. Ro couldn’t see it well but she sure could smell it. She held her nose but Vicks didn’t seem bothered. He walked up to the shack, which was constructed of old, rotted wood, and stood there, breathing in the stench. The door was ajar, a cloud of buzzing flies and gnats guarding the entrance. Ben swung the door open all the way, stepped back, and stared inside.

Ro was ready to gag. Nora wasn’t faring that much better.

Finally, Vicks closed the door. “It’s an outhouse, all right.”

“I think we came to that conclusion halfway up the path,” Ro said.

“Why don’t you two go back down and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“What on earth are you looking for?” Ro asked him. She was breathing through her mouth. She could taste the air and it wasn’t good.

“Don’t know. I’ll meet you down there in fifteen, okay?”

Nora hooked her arm in Ro’s. “Let’s let the lad do his thing.”

Vicks said, “And the other road is straight up the hill?”

“Yes, but you’re going to have to climb through all the trees and untended brush to get to the top.” Nora paused. “About a quarter mile down, there are steps to the jogging trail. You might be better off going to the top that way. The foliage is dense. It’s easy to lose your way.”

“No problem.” He lowered his backpack and pulled out his smartphone and a compass. “I have high tech and low tech. Either way, I’m covered.”



It took Ben twenty minutes hiking through the brush to find the street above without any GPS. As he approached he couldn’t see the asphalt until he was right on top of it, but he could hear cars going by. The road was narrow and there was residential housing on the other side of the lane. Cars were lined up on the parkland side, almost bumper-to-bumper as curb space was at a premium. Anyone could hide from view there, blocked from the windows of the houses by the solid metal wall of vehicles. It wouldn’t have been exactly easy to drag the body up and stow it in the trunk of a car, but it could be done quickly if meticulously planned.

Ben wondered if the police had canvassed the area. And if they had, would the residents have noticed anything? No doubt they were used to seeing people who parked their cars across the street and went down to the jogging trail via the steps.

He said to himself out loud, “How did you do it?” If he assumed that the killer took her up instead of down, Ben had to ask himself some questions.

To drag her up, he had to have knocked her out. It was too hard to manage a writhing, screaming girl going uphill on a rocky incline. Julia had been bound and strangled with no blunt-force trauma to the head. If he knocked her out, he had done it chemically.

The outhouse was a perfect place for him to hide. It was off the jogging trail and it wasn’t used all that much. If he had staked out the area, all he had to do was wait until he saw his prey approach the shack. That would give him time to look around and make sure things were safe. When she came out, he pounced. Dragged her behind the shed and placed the rag over her nose until she lost consciousness. Then he dragged her up the hill—the killer knew exactly where he parked—popped the trunk, and threw her inside. Once she was taken care of, how hard would it be to toss her shoe down the hillside to throw people off track? Then he’d go back to the car and drive to that “dreaded second location,” as Nora called it.

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